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Do bạn remember standing on a broken field, white crippled wings beating the sky.
The harbingers of war with their natures revealed and our chances flowing by.
If I can let the memory heal, I will remember bạn with me on that field.
When I thought that I'd fought this war alone, bạn were there bởi my side on the front line.
when I thought that I'd fought without a cause, bạn gave me a reason to try.
Turn the page I need to see something new, for now my innocence is torn.
We can not linger on this staunted view, like rabid chó of war.
I will let the memory heal, I'll remember bạn with me on that...
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